


Drown Your Sorrows

by dancergrl1



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Dad!PT, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 09:27:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14185923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancergrl1/pseuds/dancergrl1
Summary: Philip and Barnum have a drink one night. Barnum asks a question, and Philip doesn't react the way he expects.





	Drown Your Sorrows

**Author's Note:**

> I got bored at work, started writing this in bio lab, and took forever to type it up. Enjoy!

The night had begun innocently enough. Business decisions, discussions, the usual things that made up these nights. Philip hadn’t intended to, but he’d ended up with a glass of whiskey in his hands. He’d been sipping it, the guilt burning away with each sip. Anne had been encouraging his exploration into sobriety. The burn was still more familiar than he’d like to admit, but less so than when he’d joined the circus. He figured he could count it as something of a victory. 

Next to him, PT was on his third glass of liquor and was far more relaxed than Philip. “Tell me something, Phil.” Philip shook his head. He was three sheets to the wind.

“What, PT?” He questioned exasperatedly.

“How did you, a rich pretty boy, end up writing plays in an alcohol induced haze?”

Philip winced. “My father never encouraged it, and that led me to drink.” Philip paused to let the death of the statement sink in. “The alcohol made me angry, and the anger fueled my writing. Once the plays were successful, mother didn’t understand, but left me alone. Father…” Philip shuddered. 

Barnum’s face fell, and Philip felt guilty. He’d ruined a perfectly good night. 

“I...I should go,” Philip muttered. “I’ve ruined the evening, I’ll just go.” And hand on his shoulder stopped his words, his vaguely uncoordinated struggle of getting his things together, and he swore it stopped his heart for a moment.

“Phil...I meant nothing by it. Let it not ruin a night between friends.” 

Philip shook his head. If he stayed, he had to confront his past. If he left, he could forget, even for a little. The hand on his shoulder, steady and solid, was already stirring up unpleasant memories. Things he didn’t, wouldn’t, couldn’t think about. Unconsciously he tried to wrench his shoulder out of the grasp and and it was all he could do not to cry out when the grip only gets tighter. 

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, there’s someone telling him he’s safe, but he’s listened to that voice before and it’s not true. The alarm bells are ringing and even though he knows it will make it worse he runs, takes off, and his blurry vision sharpens and tunnels like it always did. 

“Philip!” He hears the shout behind him. It spurs him to run faster. His legs were burning and his tortured lungs were screaming but he kept going because stopping meant giving in and making it so much worse. 

A hand encloses his wrist and he whimpers, going limp. He’s confused, it doesn’t hurt? There’s a hand on his back...and that doesn’t hurt either? He’s very confused, and with the slowing of his thoughts come the aftershocks. His legs are shaking and nearly refusing to hold him up. 

“‘M sorry.” He’s slurring, murmuring, suddenly exhausted. 

“It’s alright.” The voice is soft, soothing. Not angry like he’d expected. 

“Philip?” THe voice asks quietly. He recognizes it, but can’t place it yet.

“Hmm?” He’s exhausted, and fading quickly. The hand on his back hadn’t moved. He’s not sure he wants it too. 

“Philip.” It’s not a question this time. Philip opens wary eyes, and its a surprise to say the least that he sees Phineas.

“Phin?” The man in question swears he feels his heart break. 

“Yeah, it’s me.” Barnum’s response is thick. He didn’t like the implications of what had just happened. He powered through his emotions to focus on Philip. “Can you walk, Phil?” His voice was soft, a tone he usually reserved for his daughters.

Philip knows that too. “N’t a kid,” he mumbled petulantly. 

“No, but you’re scared and tired and stressed, and much like with my other children, there’s no reason for both of us to be upset. That would get us nowhere.”

Philip shrugged. He moved closer to Barnum, soaking in the care and love he craved, but never asked for. 

Barnum embraced him wholeheartedly. “It’s alright.” He held the man for a few moments. “Philip, it’s late. You need to get to bed.” 

“S’ d’you,” he mumbled by way of response. 

Barnum rolled his eyes, and heaved both him and the dead weight that was Philip off the floor. A whimper stopped him in his tracks. “Phil?”

“‘M fine,” he responded. He waved a loose hand. “Le’s go.” He stumbles trying to keep up with Barnum’s sure steps down the hallway. Putting all his effort into keeping his legs under him, a feat far harder than it should’ve been, he didn’t register Barnum’s soft words. He could feel the simmering anger though, and experience told him to keep his mouth shut. 

“Here we are, Flip.” Philip scowls at the nickname. He feels the edge of the bed behind his knees and he collapses onto it. 

Barnum manhandles him into a prone position. Philip realizes a moment too late that Barnum was full-on tucking him in. 

He also realizes...he’s not bothered by it. 

“Goodnight, Philip.” A hand cards through his hair.

His heart fills. For the first time, somewhere felt like home.

**Author's Note:**

> Please Review!
> 
> Feel free to leave ideas!


End file.
